


If the Sea does not Move the Mountain, then the Mountain must Move the Sea

by It_MightBe_Love



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF!Boyd, BAMF!Stiles, F/M, Gen, Magic, Magic!Boyd, Magic!Stiles, magic!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 22:17:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/It_MightBe_Love/pseuds/It_MightBe_Love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's like... like the smell of the decay of Earth and the musty heaviness of cloves all gathered into the ozone of the scars left behind after lightning strikes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If the Sea does not Move the Mountain, then the Mountain must Move the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetad, random character study of my magic!verse Boyd and Stiles.

Boyd keeps quiet because his grandmother taught him the best way to get ahead was to learn other people's weaknesses. Boyd doesn't necessarily like this and a lifetime of keeping quiet has meant he has no friends, no enemies and his stepdad sometimes forgetting Boyd is alive (or that Boyd has taken over the ice rink that was his mother's pride and joy).  
  
Well that isn't strictly true, Boyd is friends with Stiles, even if it is one of those friendships they don't talk about except in the quiet moments when the smell of ozone is strong around the other boys fingertips and Boyd is inundated with memories of his grandmother's house in New Orleans and the smell of herbs.  
  
For Stiles birthday one year Boyd gave him the book of spells that had been in his family for generations. Boyd is the only one who knows about Stiles magic and it kind of surprises him that the other wolves haven't figured it out yet.  
  
Boyd figures this is because they aren't as observant, (or in Derek's case he thinks it's willful ignorance, because  if Stiles has power then he doesn't need protection and frankly that's the most ridiculous implication of them all).  
  
Stiles calls Boyd his Mountain Man sometimes. Unshakeable and quietly dignified, but volcanic underneath.  
  
They both attended the same anger management group therapy sessions after their mother's died. (Stiles' mother from cancer and Boyd's from an aneurysm).  
  
The therapy sessions worked until they started ditching to go hang out at the back of the cemetary where Stiles would read all of his mother's books and teach Boyd the language of his 'people.  
  
("Your people? What are you smoking dude?"   
 "No asshole, my people as in like... my mom's people. Magic folk. My _nyenye_ calls us wildlings."  
"So you're teaching me faeirie shit?" And he leaned over and knocked his fist against Stiles shoulder even as the younger boy swatted him with the musty tome.  
  
"No, I'm teaching you the language of Hungary, dipshit.")  
  
There's is a mutually anatagonistic relationship made up of bribes, bets and quietly reciprocated grief.  
  
The book Boyd gives Stiles is full of spells, and he has to translate more than half of it because his grandmother spoke a pigeon form of Creole and wrote half in butchered French half in Swahili, the end result is that the book is covered in the spider stain of her elegant scrawl and animal blood. To this day it is one of Stiles' favorite possessions.  
  
-Boyd really likes Erica. He likes that she moves like a Hurricane and shakes the Earth like she could push it off it's axis with the sway of her hips. He likes the animal red slash of her mouth and the gentle slope of her nose.  
  
Boyd doesn't spend a lot of time practicing the arts his grandmother taught him, but one day sitting shoulder to shoulder with Stiles, the smell of cloves and ozone heavy in the air around them, he steals some leather and bones and weaves a small protection talisman. Murmuring in his grandmother's language casting the spells that make the bone white and the leather taut.  
  
Stiles is watching raptly, and after a moment of hesitation, "Can you teach me that?"  
  
When they were fourteen Stiles set fire to the gazebo behind Boyd's house for him because that's what friends do. Because the gazebo was his mother's and it was soaked in the scent of her magics and he couldn't think of any other way to honor her death.  
  
He couldn't strike the match himself, but watching Stiles call fire to his palms and trace his hands across the beams was a thing to behold.  
  
Boyd knows that now they are older and werewolves and hunters and all manner of supernatural things have crawled out of the woodwork, stiles has stopped practicing as much as he once did; but he hasn't stopped completely and magic is one of those scents you don't forget.  
  
"It's like... like the smell of the decay of Earth and the musty heaviness of cloves all gathered into the ozone of the scars left behind after lightning strikes." he tells Erica one day, and she is quiet in a way she hasn't been in a long time.  
  
Boyd likes it, but then he likes everything about Erica and it isn't as if Stiles has deliberately kept his magic a secret.  
  
Boyd is the quietly dignified foil to Stiles rambunctious cutting edges. The soft decay of Earth to the wild untamed smell of crushed amber and clove. The unmovable mountain to Stiles quaking sea.  
  
He thinks, given time they'll only grow closer as friends and he's looking forward to it.


End file.
